Evan-

Your hair and your clothes are always disheveled. You can't seem to ever put them on the right way- your mind isn't there. You run with your feet turned out. You sometimes sound like you have an English accent when you talk, the way you annunciate your words. You are always making maps or charts or games. (The day I took these pictures you were holding a map you made to get to the nearest DQ for some ice cream and took off on your red bike up the hill.) You were very disappointed to be made to turn around and come home again.

Your favorite activities are using your imagination and using your imagination. The other day you asked for green and yellow paint to "paint lemons." I knew we didn't have any lemon trees but I also knew the paint was washable and that boys should be boys, so off you ran with paint. I had no idea you were trying to paint balls of dirt, which proved kind of difficult, what with the dirt sticking to the brush and all... you resorted to dumping the entire thing over the lemons. Jack joined you and you both returned looking like Larry and Junior.

You're a good brother. You make your siblings happy and secure. You are humored by them. They tickle you. Your humor is precious to us. The other day daddy was driving the car and following someone- you said, "we have to catch up with them." Daddy said, "No, Evan. That's not right. We have to mustard them." He said you were quiet for many minutes and the rest of the car-full had moved on to something else, then he heard you start belly-laughing like when you were a baby- "We have to applesauce them!" you yelled with glee, catching on to daddy's humor.

You are sensitive. You tell me a thousand times a day, "mommy, I love you soooo much! I love you more than anything." You also ask me daily, "have I been good today," which makes me sad that you are so hard on yourself. It's tough to discipline you because you are your own worst critic, and at the same time some things require my correction. I hope this is a phase. I hope you are able to stop this self-torment now. I hope you are able to see that I'm not perfect, because I keep telling you it's true and it will be a rude awakening if you don't realize it till the teen years! It's emotionally exhausting... it's harder than temper tantrums or spankings. How many times must I tell you I love you and that you can never do anything to make me stop? Well, however many, rest assured that I- will- tell- you!

I just ordered a sign for your room that says, "I love you to the moon and back," but I want you to know that's not entirely true. I love you to the moon, back, and then some...

You are UNIQUE. You are a JOY. You make my life worthwhile.

Mommy xoxoxoxoxo

Labels: Evan, letter